The Love Series Complete Box Set

by Melissa Collins

  “No, son. It looks like she’s going to be just fine. She just needs to wake up. Why don’t you all go in and spend a few minutes with her before you head home for the night? We’ll call you if anything changes.”

  Cammie and Jack go first, and they’re done quickly. When she comes back out to the waiting room, her eyes are puffy and red from crying. She’s shaking, so Jack tries to calm her. They walk outside, telling us they’ll be in the car.

  Melanie goes next. She takes a little longer than Cammie, but her reaction is the same—puffy, red eyes, chest heaving through the sobs. Mrs. Crane holds her daughter through the pain, rubbing slow, calming circles on her back. She passes Mel off to me so she can say goodnight to the next closest thing she has in this world to the girl she just placed in my arms.

  Mrs. Crane comes out a few minutes later and pulls Mel back into her arms. There are tears in her eyes, too, and her breathing is heavy. She’s trying to stifle her emotions, to be strong for Melanie, and I feel a pang of guilt that there’s no one there to comfort her.

  “You guys go ahead. I gave Jack the information for the hotel. You can stay there tonight. I’m just going to sleep out here in the waiting room. I’m sure you could all use a hot shower and a meal after having to drive down here. I promise I’ll call if anything changes.”

  Momma embraces me warmly and cups my cheek as she goes to leave. “She’ll be okay, Reid. She has to be.”

  I hug her back and kiss the top of her head before releasing her.

  They don’t argue; there’s no point, really. An army couldn’t drag me away from her. They walk through the ICU doors to a waiting elevator, and I’m alone.

  I walk slowly to Maddy’s room, silently praying to a God that I don’t believe in for Maddy to wake up. And maybe if I’m lucky, she’ll forgive me when she does.

  Chapter 20

  I sit in the chair I sat in earlier and pull her hand into mine once more. I know I should say something, anything, but no words come. I just hold her hand and cry. I cry for the pain I’ve caused her, for the pain I’m causing her now, for the pain I’m feeling deep in my soul that I’ve been carrying around for far too long. Drawing on her inner strength, I think over everything she told me.

  The thought of Maddy dying without me being able to tell her how sorry I am runs through my brain. For the first time since Shane died, I permit the idea of allowing my parents into my life again. What if my mom is having similar thoughts? What if she just wants to tell me one last time that she loves me? I know I would never forgive myself if couldn’t tell Maddy that I loved her one last time, hold her in my arms once more.

  I’m not ready to come around completely, but for the first time since my parents turned their backs on me, I’m not completely closed off to the idea.

  I spend the rest of the night wandering aimlessly between the coffee machine and the waiting room. Around two in the morning, the nurse gently shakes my shoulder to wake me. My neck and back are killing me from sleeping in the waiting room chair, but I’d sleep in a chair forever if it meant that Maddy would be okay. I suddenly panic, thinking that something must have gone wrong.

  “What is it? Is she okay?” I’m immediately awake; my discomfort is forgotten.

  “Yes, Reid. She’s just fine.” We’ve been on a first-name basis since her shift started and she saw that I wasn’t going to leave.

  “I just thought you might be more comfortable in the recliner in her room.” She smiles and starts walking toward Maddy’s room. When we’re standing in front of the chair, she says, “I got you an extra pillow and a blanket. Now, I might have to kick you out when my shift is over, but I couldn’t watch you sleep out there.”

  “Thank you, Carolyn. It’s really nice of you.” I pull the blanket up and try to settle in, but the relentless beeping from the machines is keeping me awake.

  I slide the chair closer to Maddy and try talking to her.

  “Maddy, baby. It’s me, Reid. I just wanted you to know that I’m here. I’m waiting for you to wake up, and I’m so sorry, baby. Please just wake up. I love you.” Pulling her hand up to my face, I kiss it lightly and rub her knuckles across my cheek.

  And then it happens.

  It’s slight, but I feel it; I feel her hand move in mine, so I start talking again.

  “That’s right, sweetie—I’m here, and so is Momma Crane and Mel and Cammie and Jack, too. We’re all here for you, and we all love you so much. I love you, baby, I love you so much. Please wake up for us.”

  She squeezes my hand again, and she begins to stir in the bed. I can’t hold back the tears of joy and relief that spring from my eyes.

  “Can you hear me, baby? Please open your eyes. Please, Maddy, wake up please.”

  She stops what little movement she was just making, and my heart sinks. I plant my face on the bed next to her hand and sob like a baby.

  When her hand reaches out and her fingers trace over my cheek, I stop breathing completely.

  “Hey, why all the tears?” Even though her voice is cracked and raw, it’s still the most beautiful thing I have ever heard in my life.

  She coughs at the effort she exerted over those simple words.

  “Shh. It’s okay. They’re happy tears now. God, I’m so happy you’re okay. I love you so much, Maddy.” I’m kissing her fingers and whatever part of her hand and arm that isn’t covered in the cold, hard cast. “Let me go get the nurse for you, sweetheart.”

  “No, don’t go. Please. Just stay with me. Tell me what happened.”

  For a moment, I selfishly hope that maybe she won’t remember our fight. Maybe she won’t remember all of the hateful things I said to her.

  “You were in an accident, baby. You were at an intersection about to make a left turn when someone blew the red light on the other side. They swerved to miss you and almost did. It wasn’t a direct impact, but it was still bad. You’ve been out cold for almost an entire day.”

  Maddy tries to adjust her position in the bed, but I hear her gasp in pain.

  “Please, Maddy, let me get you the nurse. She’ll get you something for the pain. I’ll be right back in.”

  Carolyn returns with me and checks Maddy’s vitals. When the doctor comes in to examine her, I leave the room with Carolyn, feeling lighter and more hopeful than I ever have in my whole life.

  As the doctor exits, he lets me know that he’s given her something for the pain and that she’ll probably be drifting in and out of sleep for a little while. Before returning to her, I call Melanie and let her know that Maddy is awake, that she’ll be okay. Mel tells me they’ll be there as soon as they can.

  After I hang up with Mel, I’m back at Maddy’s side in less than a minute, holding her hand once again. I’ll hold her hand forever if she’ll let me.

  She goes to speak, but I quiet her immediately. She needs her rest.

  “It’s okay, Maddy. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. Sleep, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up. I love you.” I want to smooth my knuckles across her cheek tenderly. I want to kiss her soft sweet lips, but I don’t want her to hurt. I never want her to hurt again. Instead, I just lay my head next to her hand and let the beep of the machines lull me to sleep beside my love.

  Chapter 21

  The knock on my door wakes me from my light sleep. I straighten myself up in bed and tell whoever it is to come in.

  “How are you feeling this morning, Ms. Becker?” Dr. McNamara is hopeful that I can go home today, and so I am. I’ve been recovering quickly, but since I had a few broken bones in my face and nose, I had to have some minor surgery after I regained consciousness to reset them. My face is still swollen and sore, but I’ve been reassured that the scars will barely be noticeable.

  “I’m still a little sore, but I’m definitely ready to get out of here. A week in the hospital is not exactly what I had in mind.” I muster up an insincere laugh. It’s the best I can do at this point. I really just want to go home.

  Out of all the doctors I�
��ve seen here, I like Dr. McNamara the most. She’s young—can’t be more than her mid-thirties. Her kind brown eyes crinkle in the corners when she talks to me, and I can hear her genuine concern in every word she says.

  When she sits down in the chair next to my bed to review my discharge papers, I see a look of worry work its way across her face. She reaches out to hold my hand, the part that’s not in a cast, anyway.

  “Your final blood work came back from the lab this morning.” She pauses a beat as she reads over the paperwork in my chart, as if she’s verifying something.

  “Great. Does that mean I actually get to go home today?” I feel like a little kid at Christmas or on the last day of school.

  “It looks that way. You’re all cleared to go.” She goes over all the medications I need to take when I leave here—antibiotics to stave off possible infection, anti-inflammatories for the swelling, scar prevention cream for my stitches.

  “Thanks, I’ll get these filled as soon as I get home.” Despite my lingering aches and pains, I’m practically leaping from the bed to pack up my things.

  “You’ll also want to fill this prescription and call your gynecologist when you get settled in at home.”

  In all the chaos of the accident and then the surgery afterward, I had completely forgotten about my birth control pills. I glance down at the slip of paper in my hand, expecting to see one thing, and the world falls away from beneath me when I see something completely different.

  “I think you gave me the wrong prescription, Dr. McNamara. This says pre-natal vitamins. I need one for birth control pills.” My hand is shaking as I reach my arm out to give it back to her.

  She looks back over her paperwork and then shuffles her chair closer to the bed.

  “I’m afraid not, Ms. Becker. As part of the normal blood work-up, we do a pregnancy test, and yours came back positive. Since your numbers are still relatively low, I would assume that you aren’t very far along at all—a few weeks at the most. And considering your reaction, I’ll also assume that you didn’t already know.”

  “But I can’t be. I’m on the pill. I was on the pill. I got it from the campus clinic, and I was religious about taking it every day. How? I don’t understand?” I’m freaking out. Pregnant! How the hell did this happen?

  “How long have you been taking them?”

  “About a month or so—I think. I was supposed to start a new pack the morning after the accident.”

  “And when was your last period?” She pulls her smart phone out of her lab coat pocket and opens up what I assume is the calendar function.

  “Um, I think it was in the beginning of finals week, but it was really light. The doctor at the campus clinic said that it’s possible for my periods to be light or to not come at all, so I didn’t think much of it when it only lasted a day or so.”

  “Did they also tell you to use another method of birth control for the first month as an extra precaution?”

  “No, they never mentioned that.” The world stops spinning. How could they forget to tell me something so important?

  She clicks away at a few more things on her phone and glances back over my chart one last time before sliding her phone back in her pocket and placing my chart across her lap. She leans forward and holds my hand in both of hers. She is in full-on doctor mode as she begins explaining how this all happened.

  “For some women, the pill doesn’t always work right away. It’s very rare, but as a precaution most doctors will tell their patients to use another method of birth control during the first month while their bodies adjust to the new hormones.”

  Fuckity fuck fuck!!! This is real.

  “I suspect that what you thought was your period was the spotting most women experience early in their pregnancy. All things considered, you’re very lucky, Ms. Becker.”

  I can’t help the scoff that comes out of my mouth. I’m sorry, but did she just say I was lucky? What the hell is there about this situation that’s lucky? “Yup, that’s me. Your regular old four-leaf clover.”

  Dr. McNamara gives me a glaring side-eye at my flippant attitude.

  “For starters, you’re alive. And more importantly, so is your baby,” she chides me, but softens at the last part.

  My baby.

  And then it’s all-of-a-sudden more real. There is a tiny person growing inside me. A person made up of me and Reid.

  So many thoughts scramble my brain, but the most prominent one is of Reid. How will he react? We’ve barely been together a few months, and now a baby! He never signed up for this—hell, neither did I.

  Then I think of our fight over his mother and all those horrible things he said about her. I’m trying to look at this from every possible angle. She is definitely less than worthy of Reid’s attention after how she treated Shane and then Reid after Shane’s death, but the bottom line is that she’s his mom. Reid is here because of her, and I just cannot wrap my head around how he could be so cold and callous to the person who brought him into this world.

  If he can so easily erase her from his life—whatever justifiable reason he may think he has—what is going to stop him from wiping me out one day? What’s going to happen when he stops loving me? I’ve been trying to keep them subdued, but my old insecurities are beginning to consume me, and suddenly my walls are snapping back into place.

  How would it be possible for me to look into the eyes of my child and hand him off to Reid, knowing that he let his mother die without fighting for her? It wouldn’t. There’s enough pain and suffering out there in the world. I can’t imagine having to deal with the guilt of his mom’s death hanging over me, over us, over our child, when there’s something he can do about it to make it right.

  If he’s capable of cutting his mother out of his life when she needs him, could he be capable of doing the same to me and our child?

  That last thought hits me like a ton of bricks—our child. While the idea of having a kid when I’m eighteen years old scares the freaking crap out of me, I can’t deny that I would be beside myself with joy that I would finally have the family I’ve wanted for so long. This little tiny person would be a part of me—nothing can come between that.

  Unless you’re Reid.

  I’m pretty sure my face is a contorted mess as I try to process it all. This is just too much to take in, and I’m so thankful when Dr. McNamara stands up to leave.

  “I should have your final paperwork done shortly. You should be out of here by lunchtime. Don’t forget to get those vitamins filled along with everything else.”

  Standing at the door, she pauses, her hand hovering over the handle. She turns back around to me and walks back to the bed.

  “Maddy, can I just say one thing?” Her tone is cautious, as if she’s treading in unfamiliar waters here.

  “Sure. Anything.”

  “Don’t worry about it—about being pregnant, I mean. You can worry all you want, but it’s not going to change things. Do you want your first thoughts of your child to be ones of regret or remorse? Worrying does not change your situation, so just let it all play out and embrace the path that’s laid before you—you might find that initially your road is dark and lonely, but eventually the sun will rise and light your way.”

  I can see her trying to visibly rein in her emotions, trying to take back her words.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve overstepped my bounds. It’s none of my business how you deal with this and how you feel about it. I just . . . well, I just didn’t want you to feel alone. That’s all.”

  Guilt rests heavily in my throat, making me choke on my words a little. “No, believe me, it’s all right. You didn’t overstep any bounds. That was actually really helpful advice.”

  “Good. Then I guess I’ll see you later.”

  When she gets to the door this time, she offers a small smile and a quiet nod in my direction. And then she’s gone.

  I’m left in the room all alone with thoughts about Reid and our baby, about his dying mother and our dying relationship
.

  I really wish I could ask for some pain medication. I could use something to numb some of the all-encompassing grief that is sucking me down into an abyss of darkness. Tears threaten to drown me, and my chest heaves as I try to draw oxygen into my lungs when the sobs set in.

  And of course this is when Reid chooses to enter the room. He practically sprints to my side when he sees that I’m crying. Tenderly brushing away the hair that’s fallen in my eyes, careful not to touch my bruises, he lightly presses his lips to my forehead. He doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t have to. It’s like an unwritten language of love and support. When one of us is hurting, the other just holds on tighter, letting the strength seep into our bones, deep into our soul. It’s never draining or exhausting because we’re always there to give our strength back in return.

  While he’s brushing his fingers lightly through my hair, I think about how amazing he’s been while I’ve been recovering. He’s brought me flowers almost every day, and the morning after I woke up, the first thing I saw, besides his shining blue eyes, was the jar of sand from my parents’ beach. He told me that he knew I would want them with me as I healed.

  Now more than ever, though, I just wish he would listen to his own words and let his mother back in his life while he still can. Suddenly, a gnawing unsettled feeling begins to swallow me whole.

  The timbre of Reid’s calming voice breaks through my thoughts.

  He tips my face up to his and grazes his lips over mine. Physically, I react right away. I’ve missed him, and right now all of this inner turmoil is making me desire his comfort and affection that much more.

  “Talk to me, babe. What’s wrong?” He pulls me into his side, and I nuzzle in the crook of his arm.

  “Dr. McNamara gave me my discharge papers and said I’d be good to leave here shortly.” Okay, so I’m beating around the bush a little, but I’m just trying to delay the inevitable.